


Dog of War

by Akiko_Natsuko



Series: Reaper76 [15]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends, Friends to Enemies, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Control, M/M, Memories, Missions Gone Wrong, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overuse of Technology, Serious Injuries, Soldiers, Survivor Guilt, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-22 20:03:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16604600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiko_Natsuko/pseuds/Akiko_Natsuko
Summary: The Tactical Visor had been Jack's second chance, a way for him to continue to fight, to find answer for what had happened in Zurich. It wasn't supposed to tear his life apart for a second time, leaving him unable to tell friend from foe, slowly slipping into a crimson stained world.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Petitecreme's amazing artwork and idea: https://petitecreme.tumblr.com/post/156528934922/hc-idea-that-overuse-of-the-tacticalvisor-gets

_‘Blood and destruction shall be so in use_

_And dreadful objects so familiar_

_That mothers shall but smile when they behold_

_Their infant’s quarter’d with the hands of war;_

_All pity choked with custom of fell deeds:_

_And Caesar’s spirit, ranging for revenge,_

_With Ate by his side come hot from hell,_

_Shall in these confines with a monarch’s voice_

_Cry ‘Havoc’ and let slip the dogs of war;_

_That this foul deed shall smell above the earth_

_With carrion men, groaning for burial.’_

_(Act 3, Scene 1: ‘Julius Caesar’ by William Shakespeare.)_

    Reaper hesitated for a moment as he reached the security door that led through to the rooms where Jack lived these days, slowly reaching out to key in the code one-handed while reaching up and removing his mask with the other. For the most part, he still preferred to wear the mask, even though he was spending more and more time as Gabriel these days because it helped to shield the monstrous features that lay beneath - the scars from Zurich and the evidence of the monster he had let himself become. But Jack didn’t care about what he looked like, hell, the other man probably didn’t even realise how different Gabriel looked these days, and there had been more than one occasion where the mask has set Jack off. That was enough to make him gently deposit it outside the door as it finally hissed open, and he quickly stepped inside, unsurprised when he lifted his head to find that the rooms beyond were completely dark. Unsurprised, but disappointed because the darkness meant that Jack was having a bad day and while they had been getting rarer, they had also been getting worse.

    Once inside he waited until he heard the door click shut behind him, the lock that Sombra had helped him create and install whirring softly as it slid into place, making sure that no one could come or go without inputting the code or shadow-stepping.

    It was a measure that he hated using, it left him feeling as though he was no better than the people who had tried to muzzle Jack, to control - to use him. A low snarl rumbling in his throat at that thought and the temptation to tear the security door to pieces intensified for a moment. He would quite happily have forgone it all together and let Jack have free reign of the isolated base, even if it did mean endangering others. After all, Sombra and Widowmaker were more than capable of protecting themselves, even against Jack, and anyone else who found their way here was probably expendable at best. However, Jack, in a brief moment of lucidity had insisted on it. It seemed to help a little having that defence mechanism in place, especially in Jack’s calmer moments, and that that and the fact that Jack had yet to change his mind about the matter were the only reasons that he hadn’t given into the urge to remove the door.

    Taking a deep breath to calm himself, not that it really helped when he could feel the smoke rising from his lips and the way his nanites were shifting, fighting to keep him solid, to keep him as human as possible as his emotions threatened to get the better of him. Swallowing back a growl at the sensation, something he still wasn’t used to even after all this time, he glanced around, surprised that he hadn’t heard anything from Jack yet. Normally the other man stirred the moment someone got this close, always sensing a threat, always ready to lash out…and the fact that he hadn’t put in an appearance yet had Gabriel shifting nervously despite himself, eyes narrowing as it dawned on him just how quiet the rooms around him were.

“Jack?” He called softly, feeling his nanites kicking into overdrive as he blinked and slowly the darkness shifted into a strange, grey world. It was just like when he was in his wraith form, only now the grey shapes were sharply defined, his solid form giving his nanites more of a foundation to work with. “Jack, I know that you’re in here.” Sternly he quashed the brief, panicked thought that the other man might have found a way to escape. He knew that there was no way out of here unless you were him, or had the codes, and besides it had been months and not once. Not even when Reaper had still been in control and pulling the strings, had Jack shown the slightest inclination to escape. It wasn’t as though he had anywhere else to go either, a thought that once upon a time would have had Gabriel smirking and triumphant, now left him feeling hollow, with a bitter taste in his mouth as his hands curled into fists.

  _I should have killed them when I had the chance…_

   A quiet noise from the bedroom caught his attention and stopped him from spiralling downwards into a rage, although it didn’t stop his anger from simmering just beneath the surface as he moved towards the sound. The bedroom door was hanging loosely on its hinges which was new, the wood dented and battered as though someone had been using it as a punching bag. It was another sign that today was a bad day and Gabriel hesitated for a moment before moving through into the other room, struggling to quell the instinct to reach for his guns, to protect himself from the attack that he knew could come back at any minute. It didn’t come. It took a moment for the room to come into focus, his nanites whirring again as his vision cleared and it took him half a second to realise that the bed was empty. Another noise…a low, warning snarl drawing his attention to the farthest corner of the room, and he couldn’t stop himself from flinching as he found crimson-tinted eyes watching his every move. Swallowing nervously at the familiar sight of the crosshairs that lit up the air in front of Jack’s eyes, even though he knew that there was no way for them to lock onto him and that Jack was unarmed. “Jack…?”

    He was cursing himself for accepting the calm demeanour that Jack had projected earlier the day before when they had returned from their latest mission, even as he took a cautious step forward, hoping that Jack wasn’t too far gone and that his words would be enough to reach him.

“Go away.” Despite the words and the ferocity with which they were said, the guttural growl was reassuring, because it meant that some of Jack at least was still close to the surface…he wasn’t too far gone, not yet at least, and Gabriel let out a soft sigh of relief before taking a cautious step towards the huddled form in the corner. “GO AWAY!” Jack sounded more desperate this time, a little closer to slipping over the edge and Gabriel hesitated for a moment, unwilling to be the one who pushed him over the edge. However, there was no way he was going to just walk away when Jack was like this, he hadn’t been able to do it when they were enemies, and he certainly wasn’t going to do it now that they were - not enemies, and he shook his head, knowing that Jack would be able to see it even in the darkness.

“No,” he ignored the growl that met his gentle refusal, too used to this game by now to be surprised by that response, but rather than going to Jack and definitely pushing him over the edge he changed direction and instead moved across to sit on the edge of the bed. A small part of him was amused to realise that the covers were neatly tucked in, military style, a part of Jack that had never faded even as everything else had trickled away from him, and he ran a hand over them before turning his attention back to Jack. For a moment, he just studied the huddled form, the tension in the broad shoulders that just screamed wariness, and the crimson eyes that were still following his every move. He carefully softened his voice, a tone that he had only ever used for Jack as he leaned forward slightly, holding out his hand in invitation. “Jack? Jack, can you come here?”

     Jack shook his head violently from side to side, the crimson disappearing for a moment as he squeezed his eyes shut, no doubt trying to block out the crosshairs for a moment. Gabriel sighed at the action, itching to just go across to him and offer what comfort he could. However, it had been a while since he had been this bad, and he still bore the marks from the last time he had pushed too far, his nanites still working to repair the damage and he didn’t want to give them more work to do. “Jack? Please, please come to me,” he called again, and this time he saw Jack shiver at his voice, crimson eyes slowly creeping open once more, and he had to remind himself not to flinch again as the cross-hairs tried to lock onto him. Instead, he took a deep breath, holding himself steady as Jack stared at him warily, no doubt searching for the slightest hint of fear or betrayal, still unwilling to trust him completely even after spending months together and he tried not to be disappointed at the hesitation. “Jack…Mi Luna,” he crooned, softer still, and this time he was rewarded by Jack slowly unfurling from his position on the floor.

    It was a slow process, Jack kept pausing, tensing at the slightest noise or movement on Gabriel’s part, his eyes constantly darting between Gabriel, the door and the floor. Gabriel forced himself to wait, silent now, watching with bated breath as Jack straightened, wavering as his head shifted from side to side, as though still waiting for the other shoe to drop. His arm was beginning to ache from keeping his hand outstretched, but he forced himself to hold it steady, especially when Jack finally took a slow, cautious step forwards. _That’s it, Jack,_ he wanted to encourage him, but he held the words back as Jack paused again after a half step, a low, uncertain noise escaping as he wavered, muscles tensing, and Gabriel could see the cross-hairs trying to focus on him again. _Come on Jack, you were doing so well._

“I killed…them.”

    Gabriel slowly let his hand fall away, startled by the words and the fact that Jack had willingly brought up what was bothering him. It was rare for Jack to speak to him at all these days, preferring silence, or speaking only to try and drive him away, and he hesitated, contemplating the meaning behind the words. There were many people that Jack had killed over the years, too many, and not all of them had been intended, and with the way that Jack’s mind worked these days it was hard to know what he was referring to, and he was caught by surprise when Jack moved towards him. “I killed them…I killed them…you let me kill them…”

“Jack? Jack, what are you talking about?” There were too many memories that could be dragged up if he tried to speak about the wrong thing, and he could tell that Jack was on a knife’s edge, his shoulders hunched defensively, tension radiating from every inch of his body. “Jack?”

“I killed them…” Jack had stopped again, his gaze wondering, hands flexing at his sides and Gabriel tensed, bracing himself for the other man to lash out. Instead, Jack seemed to curl in on himself even more than before. “I thought it was going away. I thought…” His hands crept up, fingers drifting worryingly close to his eyes and Gabriel was already up and moving before his next words. “You should have let them put me down!” Gabriel reached him just in time to stop him from gouging at his eyes, yanking his hands away from his face and holding on tight even as Jack snarled at him, tensing as he realised that Gabriel wasn’t letting go before beginning to try and yank himself free.  “Why? Why didn’t you kill me? Why won’t you kill me? They would’ve…I heard them considering it. Why…?”

“I’m not them!” It came out far harsher than he had intended and he was unsurprised when Jack flinched, violently, and he sighed. “Jack, come with me.” The fight was slowly draining out of Jack, and while he remained tense and wary, he allowed Gabriel to guide him across to the bed, a litany of ‘whys’ escaping even as they settled on the softer surface. He was worryingly pliant as Gabriel pulled him down until his head was resting in his lap, although he jumped when Gabriel moved to run his fingers through his hair and tried to pull away with a weak protest.

“Don’t…”

“What brought this on?” Gabriel asked softly, cautiously, not faltering in his ministrations, relieved when Jack reluctantly settled and even leant into the touch it, craving it despite himself. “You’ve been doing better…” Admittedly there wasn’t much to set Jack off in this base, that had been the whole part in retreating out here, in keeping Jack out of the fight as much as possible. He stilled, cursing under his breath as understanding dawned, and his fingers tightened in the snowy locks as he struggled to stop his form from disintegrating, they couldn’t both afford to fall apart at this point. “Jack is this about yesterday…?” He had been reluctant to take Jack on the mission, but he knew how it felt to be caught trapped and unable to act. And he had promised himself, even at the start that he would never let Jack see him in the same light as those who had made him like this - those who had tried to muzzle him and kept him locked away, and so he had given way. “I’m sorry, Jack,” he murmured.

_It was supposed to be a simple mission, just a quick in and out to retrieve some sensitive information that Talon had foolishly let fall into enemy hands. And while he’d complained, Reaper had been pleased to accept a simple mission that wouldn’t be observed. It would be the perfect opportunity to let Jack stretch his legs, and test the waters. It had been months since Jack had left the base, and it was starting to tell -he was lashing out more, losing himself more and more, and Gabriel hoped that something like this, with no risk of civilians being caught in Jack’s sight, would help to ease his pent-up energy._

_It hadn’t been a simple mission. He was still working with Sombra to discover if it had been a deliberate setup, or if someone, either Talon or maybe even Overwatch who was still searching for their missing…pet. But either way, the simple gang he had been expecting to deal with had turned out to be far more numerous than expected, and far better armed - too well armed. It had been a bloodbath, one that could have killed them both if Jack hadn’t let go of what control he’d built up over the last few months, releasing all his inhibitions and tearing them apart. Madness setting in as his cross-hairs lit up, again and again, too many targets on offer. Yet at the end of it, he had been himself, calming himself without Gabriel’s help, expression neutral as he trailed after Reaper as they left, willingly handing over his weapon on their return._

    He should have known better, he did know better - every step they had taken since he’d stumbled across Jack in that battlefield had been one step forward and nearly half a dozen back. Sighing he returned to running his fingers through Jack’s hair, soothing him as Jack slowly slumped against him, still tense and still whispering ‘why’ under his breath, but running out of steam.

“Shh,” Gabriel murmured. “It’s okay, you didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t hurt any innocents, and you stopped…you stopped.” In his mind that was the most important thing, there had been rampage, no lust to keep hunting for more targets like there had been in the past. Jack had stopped himself, calmed himself, and even this meltdown, safely within the confines of his rooms was an improvement, and slowly he straightened, hooking a finger under Jack’s chin and tilting him up until crimson eyes reluctantly met his gaze.  “You’re not a monster, you’re getting better, and I certainly have no intention of putting you down.” The words felt foul on his tongue, and he added them to the fuel that kept his anger against Overwatch burning bright.

“I am a monster.”

“No,” Gabriel shook his head, shivering as he remembered all the times that word had been levelled at him, but to some extent he had deserved it, he had lost himself in Reaper on purpose, he had let himself become the monster. Jack…Jack had been innocent, Jack was innocent. Slowly, not wanting to startle the other man he ran his finger over the scars left by Zurich before moving to the others, to the newer marks that littered against the sides of his face, evidence of his efforts to remove the muzzle that he’d been forced to wear. His expression darkening for a moment as he stared at the marks, ghosting over them before gently cupping Jack’s face, smiling when the crimson eyes hesitantly met his gaze once more. “You’re not a monster. You’re Jack, my beautiful Jack…no, my beautiful Luna.”

_My beautiful, broken hound. I promise that one day you will be able to see yourself as more than a monster, as more than the wild beast that they tried to muzzle._

 


	2. Chapter 1

      Jack’s expression was even behind the mask as he stared down at what remained of Zurich. He wasn’t sure why he was here. There was nothing to be learnt from the ruins that hadn’t already been pulled up by the investigators, lies and false trails, hints of a betrayal that ran far deeper than he could have ever imagined. ‘Evidence’ that lay the blame at his feet, at Gabriel’s feet and while he knew that neither of them was responsible for the explosion that had ultimately brought Overwatch to his knees, he couldn’t convince himself that they weren’t to blame.

    Their Feud - he no longer knew what else to call it, no longer able to lie to himself and say that it had just been a rough patch had been pulling them apart for so long that he had stopped being able to see the damage it was causing around them. Overwatch. Blackwatch. Both organisations had been pulled into their mess, it had weakened them, distracted them and allowed those who wanted Overwatch to fall to slip in unnoticed. However, beneath it all, he knew that the blame lay more at his feet than Gabriel’s. He had been the one who had turned a blind eye to what was happening, who had refused to listen even when those closest to him had tried to warn him. He was the one who had been pretending to be something that he wasn’t, and there was a faint tremor in his hand as he reached up to clasp the dog tags around his neck, clutching them tight enough to leave imprints in his skin.

A soldier.

     That was all he had ever been, a soldier. He had realised during his first tour that was what he was supposed to be, remembered watching some of the other recruits falling apart after their first battle, throwing up at the first kill. But he had felt at home, he had felt himself. Hell, that was why he had signed up for SEP in the first place, seizing at the chance to remain in the military rather than returning home and pretending to be someone he wasn’t. Wanting, needing the chance to become better at the one thing that had already made sense to him.

    So, why? Why had he ever let the U.N. shoe-horn him into the Strike-Commander position? Into a position that took him from the fight and chained him to a desk, that kept him from the one thing that he was good at? And why had he stayed? He had known from the start, standing in front of the cameras in a uniform that had never seen conflict, talking about the battles being thought without him that it wasn’t where he belonged. Yet he had clung to it, pretended that he could be more than a soldier, even as he snuck himself onto every mission that he could get away with. Gabriel had known, he had called him on it more than once, but he had stubbornly brushed it aside - claimed that he could do it.

_I was wrong._

**

    He hadn’t intended to venture down into the ruins, and yet he had found himself unable to leave without doing so, cautiously making his way through the fence that had been erected around the site. Months ago, it had been protected, but the U.N. had no interest in protecting a fallen organisation, and anything of use had long since been salvaged, and so it had been abandoned, snow settling over most of the rubble and here and there he could see hardy vegetation creeping in. With time, it would be like nothing had ever been there, a thought that didn’t bring with it the pang that he had been expected and he faltered for a minute, gaze drifting over the remnants of his home, realising that he felt nothing.

It was a pile of rocks now, a failure… 

     He nearly turned back then, the emptiness affecting him more than the ruins, but he forced himself to continue, one hand resting on his holstered side-arm although he doubted that there was anything but ghosts to be found here.   

     There was a flicker of something when he came to the area where he had been rescued, his free hand resting briefly on his chest as he remembered the sensation of rocks weighing down on him, his breath catching as he remembered how he had struggled to breathe, to remain conscious and the feel of blood trickling down his face. After a moment his hand moved up to rest against his visor, and he swallowed thickly for a moment, the last thing he had seen with his own eyes had been those rocks. And seconds before that, the sight of Gabriel being flung away from him as the explosion had ripped its way through the floor beneath him, and he growled as his useless eyes seemed to burn for a minute and he closed them, ignoring the whirring of the nanites in the visor as they protested the change. _Gabe…_

“Gabe…” Slowly he opened his eyes again, blinking as the world around him reappeared, bathed permanently in crimson as the nanites reconnected with a whirr. It was hard not to imagine the red as blood - the blood that he had felt that day, the blood of the agents who had died that day. Gabe’s blood and his hand returned to the chain around his neck, to the dog tags that hung beside his own, the only trace of the other man that had been found that day.

    He hesitated for a moment, fingers curling around them before he nodded decisively. Today had been about saying goodbye even if he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it before, and with a sharp jerk, he snapped the chain, letting both his and Gabriel’s tags fall into his hand and staring at them for a moment. Gabriel had never been found, his body resting somewhere in these ruins and as far as the world knew, Strike-Commander Morrison was gone as well, although he had been granted a farce of a public funeral. He’d even attended, hiding in the shadows, listening as people he barely knew spoke about him as those who had, had scattered to the winds. He had known then that it was better to let Jack Morrison stay dead, and now he was sure of it.

    With stiff movements, he crouched, ignoring the ache from still healing wounds, an ache that was unlikely to fade and instead focusing on rooting through the rubble and snow until he found what he was looking for. Clasping the sharpish rock in his hand he began to dig, the frozen ground reluctantly giving way to his efforts and he was glad that he didn’t need to go too deep, after all, there was no one left to come and disturb this place. Once he was satisfied he tossed the rock aside and stared at the dog tags again, fingers curling possessively around Gabriel’s for a moment as he remembered happier times. Times when he’d had the right to hold to them, and with a soft noise that was a little too close to a sob for his liking he let the tags go, watching them fall into the hole and hastily covering them.

    He remained knelt in front of the makeshift grave for a few more minutes, just staring at it. He wasn’t mourning, any tears he’d might have had were long gone. Instead, there was emptiness and a feeling as though a weight he had forgotten had been lifted from his shoulders. _Strike-Commander Morrison is dead,_ a brittle chuckle rose in the back of his throat, and he patted the earth. _You were right Gabe, I was never meant to be anything but a soldier…_

A Soldier.

    Slowly he eased himself back to his feet and took a deep breath. A soldier. That was all he was supposed to be, and with Overwatch gone - with Gabriel gone, and the world thinking he was dead, he was free to be just that. And he had a mission, his eyes hardening as he lifted his gaze from the grave to the ruins around him, hands curling into fists at his side. No matter how much blame lay at his feet, someone had done this, and while a tiny part of him was thankful that he could go back to being what he really was, it wasn’t something he could forgive or forget.

He needed answers.

****

Three months later:

     Jack hissed under his breath, ducking behind a wall as he pressed a hand against his side, biting back a curse as fresh fire erupted under his touch and he knew that if it weren’t for his gloves, he would feel blood. Experimentally he moved, testing, it hurt - enough to stop most people he knew, but not enough to make him reach for one of the biotic emitters. He nodded, yanking his hand away from it and checking the pulse rifle in his hands, a wild grin crossing his lips as he hefted it. He had missed this - missed the thrill of fighting, of not having to worry about anything but getting the job done and he had missed his old weapon. This was a newer model, but its weight was as comforting as his old one had been, and his fingers tightened against it as he heard movement heading towards him, the grin fading slightly, even as he tensed, something - not quite excitement, but anticipation maybe? And his hand was steadier than it had been for a long time as he reached up to activate his visor.

     The blood-red that stained his vision grew brighter, but it was no longer enough to overwhelm him as it had been in the first couple of months, instead it seemed to fan his anticipation, and he sucked in a quick breath before he flung himself back into the open. His body protested the movement, and in the back of his mind he could hear a familiar voice scolding him for being reckless, but both were easily ignored in favour of focusing on the targets now lighting up his vision, the cross-hairs telling him where to aim and where to fire. A tiny part of him had worried at the start, realising just how dependent he was on the visor, but now…now it was freeing, he just had to aim and fire. Just be a soldier, and with the newly stolen pulse rifle heavy and real in his hands, it was like the last few years had just melted away.

**

     Something was stirring at the back of his mind as he moved through the destruction he had caused, checking that he hadn’t missed anything or anyone. He frowned, the peaceful feeling that had engulfed him during the fight fading as he glanced down at one of the agents he had downed, the entire figure bathed in crimson from his visor…blood…he blinked and closed his eyes, angry at himself for being affected by it. Had the years of being chained to the desk changed him that much? His hands tightened on his weapon, almost wishing that the visor would come back to life once more, that he could lose himself in the feeling of just being a soldier again, instead growling as an unwelcome memory rose to the surface.

_Jack was breathing heavily, weariness bowing his shoulders, but he paid no mind to that or to the burning sensations in his side or shoulder as he glanced around in satisfaction. A small part of him knew that he was going to get reamed out for being reckless again, but the threat - a strike force of Omnics that had been trying to sneak in behind their position had been eradicated. And with the adrenaline still running through his veins and the ever-present feeling of belonging that came from being in a fight burning in his chest, it was hard to worry._

_“Morrison! Morrison!” Of course, Gabriel would be the first one to come looking for him, and the concern in his Commanding Officer’s voice told him that the older man knew that he had been reckless again and he pulled a face. He was definitely going to get scolded again, and with a sigh, he turned to meet them, eyes darting briefly to the shocked expressions on their squads’ faces not really understanding why they looked like that before his attention darted back to Gabriel. “M…Jack.” He blinked at the use of his first name, something that was normally reserved for when they were alone, before frowning as he saw something else besides worry and irritation in the dark eyes…was that shock? Or fear? And why was it there? He had done his job, and he had eliminated the threat. “What have you done?”_

_He didn’t understand the question, but slowly he tilted his head to take in the scene around him, some of the adrenaline fading now in the face of their reactions and he blinked. It was a massacre. He blinked again, glancing down at his hands and the pulse rifle he was holding. He could remember launching himself into the middle of the group, could vaguely remember the firefight that had erupted, but, he shook his head, hating the uncertainty that had seeped in and gazing at the mangled Omnics with narrowed eyes before shrugging and turning back to Gabriel._

_“I removed the threat.”_

“I removed the threat,” he murmured as he came back to the present, flinching a little at the gruff voice that was so different from the one in his memory, but he felt calmer when he opened his eyes to the crimson world once more. That had been the day that Gabriel had realised why he was a soldier, and what he was capable of, and it had also been the day that he had realised that he could never be anything else. If men like Gabriel and their fellow SEP graduates could look at him like that, how could he ever fit into life outside the military? And yet he had tried to be something else. Tried and failed…

     A noise behind him had him spinning, finger moving to the trigger even before his visor flared to life, the cross trigger coming up and highlighting the figure who had just emerged from a room on the other-side of the room. He barely registered the flash of their weapon, or the feel of the bullet slamming into his shoulder, his previous uncertainty and the memory sinking to the back of his mind as he fired, forgetting everything but the job at hand.

    Cautiously he moved across the room, the faint light of cross-hairs still flooding his vision telling him that the man was still alive, and he kept his finger against the trigger as he moved closer. The man was dying, even with the crimson that made up his vision he could make out the wounds he had inflicted, and he knew that without medical aid he would bleed out. Yet he made no effort to move towards the biotic emitters he carried, instead tilting his head to the side as he considered the man. Once upon a time the fear in the painted face would have bothered him, made him falter, now it fanned something darker and he felt something akin to a smirk crossing his lips, eyes narrowing as the visor whirred, cross-hairs zooming in on the target, encouraging him to fire and his finger twitched. It would be so easy to end this.    

“Please…”

“No.” He had tried to be merciful, he had tried to be forgiving, anything to fit into the image of the Strike-Commander that the U.N. had wanted and where had that got him? For a moment, all he could see was the fear that Gabriel had shown him back then, but he sternly clamped it down. Focusing on what his visor was telling him and taking a deep breath, before calmly pulling the trigger, almost missing the added colour the cross-hair brought to his vision as it flickered and faded, slowly lowering his weapon and gazing impassively at the crumpled form in front of him. The uncertainty that had raised its ugly head earlier was gone, and after a moment he turned away, his job here was done, and if he stayed too long he would have to deal with the authorities, and he doubted that they would see things his way.

**

     He slipped out of the warehouse a few minutes later, waiting in the shadows long enough to make sure that the flames had taken hold before melting away into the night, unaware of the eyes watching him from above.

     Reaper watched the other man slipping away, eyes narrow as he studied the ridiculous jacket and the stiff movements that spoke of injuries old and new, before dismissing it as unimportant as he shifted his attention to the warehouse that was now completely engulfed in flames, an irritated growl rising in the back of his throat. The shipment the group had been transporting had been minor, munitions only, but still, the loss was irritating. He’d had no intention of letting them reach Talon as intended, and they would have been of little use to him, but that didn’t mean that he appreciated having his prey snatched out from under his nose and for a moment he contemplated going after the interloper. It would be an interesting diversion if nothing else, as he knew that the man had been causing trouble for the last few months, but there was a whisper of something at the back of his mind that told him that it was a bad idea, that it could open up things that were best left forgotten.

    He hadn’t got where he was without listening to his instincts, and he tapped clawed fingers against the ground as he stared at the warehouse, slowly forcing the urge to hunt down the other man, for now at least, instead slowly rising to his feet and reaching for his communicator.

“Sombra.” He growled, waiting for her to finish laughing at him, having seen what had become of his target through the few surveillance cameras that existed in the area, wondering yet again why he put up with her. “I want you to look into that man.” He didn’t need to elaborate, knowing that she would have seen everything anyway, and he hung up the moment he got her acknowledgement, dark eyes turning to where the man had disappeared, a curiosity that he rarely felt tugging at his thoughts as he stared at the shadows for a couple of minutes longer before slipping away himself.

 


End file.
